


Ache

by spobylol



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy, Sex, relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-01-21 03:37:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12448863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spobylol/pseuds/spobylol
Summary: Frank and Laurel begin to pick up the pieces of their broken relationship. But they have a lot of things to figure out, like what they are to each other, what they want from each other—oh, and whether or not Frank might have been the baby daddy all along.[4x04+]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is canon up to 4x04. It's going to be going from there, and is based off of some of the snippets of Flaurel from the 4x05 promo, so beware if you don't want spoilers!

Laurel stood across from him, her mouth hanging slightly ajar and her blue orbs slightly wider than usual. She found herself startled when she first opened the door, taking a precautionary step backward. She pressed her lips together, swallowing hard as she stared at the tall, bearded man standing across from her.

"W-what are you doing here, Frank?" she asked, almost  _scared_ of what he was going to say.

"We need to talk," he told her sternly. "About last night."

"Last night?"

He nodded his head.

_"It's just sex. Shut up and take it," Laurel had hissed as she moved up and down, riding him while her hand covered his mouth._

_What she was doing was wrong and she was aware of that, but he didn't protest at all. She kept riding him slowly; he grunted at the sensation, enjoying it a lot more than he wished he did. And she was enjoying it, too, keeping her hand pressed against his mouth. He moved his hands to her ass, cupping it and squeezing it, knowing he was stupid for giving in like this._

_He had a feeling that this was just about sex—and that wasn't all he wanted from her—but there was no way that he would ever turn this down. Sex was always good with her; of course he never **didn't** want to have sex with her. So he was fine with it. Sure, he was hoping that this had gone differently—that this was more romantic. He was trying to be there for her and redeem himself in her eyes, but it probably was just sex to her. _

_He wanted to kiss her and touch her and do this the right way, but it didn't seem like that was the type of sex she wanted right now. She just wanted to satisfy herself. That was obvious. She had made it clear that she hated his guts ever since Wes died, so it wouldn't make sense if she wanted anything more than sex._

"I'm sorry," her voice cracked. 

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Sorry? I'm the one who should be sorry—"

"No, I'm sorry about what I did," she admitted sheepishly. "It wasn't... it wasn't right."

He tilted his head to the side, confused. She motioned for him to come inside of the apartment. He did as she wanted, and shut the door behind him. 

"You tried to stop me, but..." she stared at the floor. "You didn't want it last night, but I made you. And no matter what you've done to me—to anyone—you don't deserve that."

"Laurel," he shook his head, in disbelief that anyone thought of him as a victim. He didn't have a lot of respect for himself left after everything he had done, so he was certainly not one to see himself as having been taken advantage of. "It's not that I didn't want last night, I just... I didn't want you to regret it."

"I was off my meds and horny and," she bit her lip, swallowing when she looked up at him. She stopped herself right there, unable to figure out what to say that could make this okay, but he still seemed startled that she was even worried about this.

And he was because he never thought of things like  _that_. He didn't blame her for what happened; in fact, he was  _grateful_ for it. He was grateful that Laurel hadn't completely kicked his ass out of her life—that she was even willing to call him to talk that night. He didn't think that he was in a position to even feel sorry for himself for anything. And if anything truly bad did happen to him, he felt like he deserved it, anyway. It was a sad way to think.

"I just want to know if that was all it was," he told her. "Was it... just a one-time-thing?"

"Yeah, it was," she nodded her head, but she knew she was lying.

Ever since it happened, she had been telling herself it was because her pregnancy and lack of meds were making her horny as hell and craving to screw anybody that came near her. And it was true: she was getting turned on by things that really shouldn't have been turning her on (Asher's ass, per se). But being in that car with Frank, she felt something that she wished she didn't feel. He was still a killer and had done terrible things, so she knew it was so wrong to still feel something for him. God, it was so, so wrong...

Michaela didn't say anything when she had confessed that she had sex with him last night, but that was more just because Michaela was focused on developing a plan to prove that Laurel's dad killed Wes—something that Laurel knew she should have been focusing on, too. And she tried to get her head back in the game, but this thing with Frank had been running through her brain ever since. 

Other people would probably be more judgmental. Maybe Asher would be okay with it—he seemed to still like Frank.

But Annalise—God,  _Annalise_. 

 _She_ would kill Laurel if she ever found out. Laurel didn't know all the details of what had happened between Frank and Annalise, but she knew it ran deep. And she knew that Annalise  _hated_ him, even if she needed him sometimes. Thankfully for Laurel, Annalise was seemingly out of her life... for now.

But Laurel didn't know if she was ready for the moral repercussions of admitting that she was still into Frank.

So she let him leave the apartment that night.

"Okay," he accepted, turning the other way, opening the door, and walking out.

Part of Laurel wished she had told him to stay instead. Maybe they could have banged another time, and she would get a few minutes of remarkable sex, but it would be followed by immediate guilt. She knew that.

She felt bad about everything. She felt bad for him a lot. Even knowing some of the things he had done, she felt bad for him. She felt bad for him when Annalise—and everybody else, including herself—had cut him off. She felt bad when she lied to make him go to jail for Wes's murder even though she knew he wasn't guilty. She felt bad seeing him there when she went to visit, apologizing to her for everything, not even having to say he didn't kill Wes because Laurel already knew from the broken look in his eyes that he didn't do it, and that he never meant to hurt her at all. 

And now she felt bad that she basically pressured him to have sex and made him think that she used him for a one-time-thing. 

 

* * *

"Whoa, whoa, whoa... back up! How the hell did you get it without her seeing?"

Michaela smirked proudly, sitting down on a chair in Wes's old apartment. "While Tegan was on her lunch break, we went into her office and Oliver made a copy of all the files on it. Including the Antares file. Oliver was able to set up this thing he said would make sure there was no trace of us copying the files." 

"When is he going to look through it?" Laurel asked impatiently.

Michaela sighed, "We have to be discreet about it. Connor's not going to be happy if he finds out that we're involving Oliver in this. You saw the way he flipped last year any time Annalise had him hack something for us."

Laurel seemed frustrated, "Yeah, well, proving that my dad did this to Wes is a lot more important than Connor flipping out."

"Hey," Michaela said, looking at Laurel, who was staring at the floor, sympathetically. "We  _are_ going to prove that your dad was behind it, okay? And we're going to have Oliver do it without rubbing it in Connor's face. It'll make things simpler that way, but we're still going to find everything we need. Besides, can you really blame Connor for being worried about Oliver's safety anymore? Bad things are happening around us all the time."

Laurel knew that Michaela was right. She knew what her dad was capable of doing. Involving Oliver was making him take that risk, too. Laurel felt guilty for involving everyone, but she needed all the help she could get. It wasn't going to be an easy task to take a man like her father down. 

"I get it," Laurel nodded her head. "I do."

"Good," Michaela smiled. "I'll call Oliver when I get back to my place and see when he can work on this without Connor being around."  

"What if Asher starts asking you questions about it?" Laurel asked.

Michaela sighed, "Damn it... You're right. I'll just call him now."

Michaela pulled out her phone and started ringing Oliver. Laurel leaned her head against the wall, sighing quietly. Her eyes were glued on Michaela, wondering if it would be wrong of her to talk about Frank. The whole thing had been replaying in her head since he came over the previous night, and she was starting to seriously regret not asking him to stay.

But she had a feeling that Michaela would tell her that she was right for telling him to go away, and judge her for even  _pondering_ that she still had feelings for Frank.

"Ollie! Hey!" Michaela exclaimed. "Are you with... Connor right now? Uh-huh. Okay. Well, we need you to work on that thing we were talking about earlier as soon as possible. Just tell Connor that it's IT work or something. This is important." There was a long pause, but Michaela ended with, "Oliver... thank you."

She put down her phone and looked over at Laurel.

"He said he'll get on it as soon as possible," Michaela smiled.

"Okay. Good."

Michaela got up from where she was sitting, walking toward the apartment door. She analyzed Laurel for a moment, finding it quite evident that she seemed upset. 

"Laurel," she said. "Is everything okay?"

"I don't know what 'okay' means anymore," Laurel chuckled bitterly, staring at the floor.

Michaela looked at her sympathetically, wishing there was something she could do to make her feel better. 

 "Look: try not to worry too much about this, okay? We're going to do everything in our power to make sure that we find what we need. You're not alone... in any of this," Michaela assured her.

Laurel smiled weakly.

"Thank you," was all she said, excusing Michaela to leave the apartment.

* * *

Just thirty minutes after Michaela left, Laurel drove over to Frank and Bonnie's place. She knew it was a stupid idea, especially considering that Bonnie could be—and probably was—there right now. 

She knocked on the door. He answered it, startled. He was certainly startled because he thought Laurel, essentially, was cutting him off the previous night.

"Laurel," he said. 

"Is Bonnie here?" she asked.

"No. She told me she's gonna be workin' late tonight on something with Nate," Frank informed. He chuckled, "Maybe they're screwin'."

Laurel rolled her eyes.

"Uh, would you like to come in?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

She stepped inside. He shut the door.

"Is everything all—" 

She continued to surprise him by stepping forward, pulling him down, and pressing her lips against his. She had almost forgotten what his lips tasted like. His hands immediately found her waist, holding on to her, pulling her even closer, desperate for her to stay close to him. 

"Wait, Laurel," he pulled back, swallowing hard. "I thought you said—"

"I know what I said. It wouldn't be the first time I lied," she scoffed.

That was enough to make his inhibitions disappear. He complied when a smirking Laurel pushed him back against the couch roughly—they were going to continue doing this rough, just like old times. Breathing heavily and sitting back on the couch, Frank watched as Laurel pulled her top over her head. Her eyed the tiny baby bump she had, prompting his inhibitions to threaten to resurface, but they quickly disappeared again when she slowly started walking toward him. 

She stopped for a moment to pull down her skirt, revealing those smooth legs that he could never stop thinking about. She then resumed walking toward him, dropping herself down on Frank's lap. She could feel how hard he was under his pants.

Now on his lap, she looped her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him so that his lips were buried in the crook of her neck, brushing against the skin there. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, all over... 

"Wait, is this because you're still sex-crazy? Or because you actually want this?"

She chuckled, "Um, how about both?"

Now completely giving in, Frank found the clasp of her bra, unhooking it, pulling it off of her breasts, letting it fall down. He shoved it off to the side of the couch. Meanwhile, Laurel found his belt, tugging it off, then moving on to start pulling his pants and boxers off so that they fell at his ankles.

Almost desperately now, Laurel pulled her underwear off, positioning herself so that her center was aligned with his cock. She held his shoulders tightly and firmly before pushing him into her. She moved up and down on his lap, riding him. He held her lower back, guiding her up and down. Her moans were like music to his ears. 

With her body so close to his face, he couldn't help but take one of her breasts into his mouth, sucking on it gently as she moved on him. 

Laurel knew this was an impulsive decision to come here and initiate sex with him again when she had just told him it was a one-time-thing, but she couldn't help it. She knew she would have to deal with the repercussions of it all later, but right now, it felt so damn good that she couldn't even think of a reason as to why this would be a bad idea. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

On her laptop, Laurel was doing her own searches about possible Antares scandals, but of course, she couldn't find anything. She figured that her dad could pay anyone off to make sure that these types of things didn't get out to the public. He got away with all the horrible crap he did, just like he got away with murdering Wes. 

She knew that her personal searches weren't going to get her any further on building a case against her dad or at least figure out why the hell he would do it, but she had to keep herself busy. Oliver hadn't contacted her about any of his findings yet, which could only mean that Connor was keeping him busy, since he was usually efficient in getting his hacking done. Michaela hadn't reached out the entire day, either, but she kept insisting that Oliver would be "on it" and that she was going out with Asher tonight.

After work that day, she just went back to the apartment. She figured she couldn't go to see Frank today because Bonnie actually left on time instead of staying late to work with Nate on "something." And she figured that was for the best, anyway, since she would probably just lose all self-control (as usual) and end up screwing Frank. 

Laurel focused again, but knew her searches were useless. She certainly wasn't going to find anything stalking Jorge Castillo's LinkedIn page. 

Then, there was a knock on her door. 

She was hoping that it was Michaela or Oliver, equipped with some new information, but—

Frank. 

When she opened the door, Frank was standing there.

"Why do we keep showing up at each other's places?" she half-joked.

He didn't seem to be in a very light mood. He had a serious expression on his face. Honestly, she thought that he came over for sex or to talk about the sex. 

"Frank. What is it?" she demanded.

He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

"We really need to talk," he told her. "This is important."

"Well, spit it out, then," she said like it was obvious.

He swallowed hard, looking like he was searching for the right words to say. He definitely seemed nervous.

"The whole way over, I was practicin' how I'm gonna do this," he confessed. "But now that I'm here, I... I don't know what to say."

" _Frank_."

"I didn't want to ask you this before because we weren't exactly talking and I thought you'd be outraged if I did, but... I have to at least ask, even if you shoot it down immediately," he started. She started to get nervous, too, wondering what the hell this could be. "Laurel... are you sure the baby's not mine?"

Laurel just stared at him, her heart pounding and her palms getting sweaty because she had no idea how to respond to this question. 

 "W-why would you think  _that_?" she asked, unable to look up and meet his eyes.

He tried not to get impatient, continuing to give her a soft, non-judgmental look. Because really, he was not in any position to judge others, and he knew that. 

"You know  _exactly_ why I think that," he said, but refrained from any hint of a condescending tone. "Laurel, please. I've wanted to ask this since I found out, but I thought you hated my guts and you seemed so sure."

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" he raised his eyebrows. "So, the kid could be mine?"

"I can't do this right now, okay?" she breathed. "You should go."

He still wanted an answer from her. He wanted to ask her how far along she was. He wanted to know if that baby could be his. But he also knew better than to press her harder when she clearly didn't want to talk yet. He knew Laurel; he knew that she would come to him when she was ready to talk. Just like how he gave her space and stayed out of her life for a while until she approached him and was ready to talk again.

"Fine," he gave in. "But you can't avoid talking about this forever, so... if you wanna talk, just ring me up."

She forced her eyes not to watch him as he opened the door and walked out of the apartment. She backed up, falling flat on the bed behind her, sighing deeply. Oh God, he had just opened a can of worms that she wasn't sure she was ready to deal with.

A can of worms that she probably should have dealt with a long, long time ago.

* * *

" _Laurel_ , what are you doing here?" Michaela asked, trying to mask her frustration. "Didn't I tell you that I was busy tonight?"

Asher popped his head out from the bedroom behind them. "She means:  _we're_ busy tonight. Poundtown is  _calling_!"

Laurel raised her eyebrows, trying not to laugh, and Michaela just rolled her eyes. She turned her head and gave her boyfriend a long glare, making him smile guiltily. 

"Baby, I think Laurel and I need a little while to talk," she said, batting her eyelashes at him. "Go watch cartoons or something."

"Fine," he groaned, but gave in. He popped himself entirely back into the bedroom, shutting the door. 

"What is it, Laurel?" Michaela asked, raising her eyebrows. "Oliver hasn't made any breakthroughs just yet, so unless you've somehow made some on your own..."

"No, it's not about my dad."

Michaela seemed surprise. Her face softened.

"Oh. Okay. Then what  _is_ it about?"

Laurel was hesitant. She was thinking through it one more time—thinking if it was a good idea to expose this information that she literally hadn't told  _anyone_ yet. And honestly, she wasn't planning on telling anyone. But for some reason, she felt like she could trust Michaela. Michaela had been helping her even when she didn't have to; she was putting her life on the line to help her investigate her father's involvement in Wes's murder.

And not to mention, but Michaela had been one of the few people taking care of her and being on her side. After the fire, Michaela had sat by her in the hospital every day, taking care of her. Laurel was really starting to feel like they were real friends... like they were almost  _family_.

Maybe this would screw it all up because it did make her seem like a bad person. But she needed to talk to  _someone_.

"It's about Frank," she confessed.

And the time was running out to take it all back and tell Michaela nothing. Michaela opened the door wider, gesturing for her to come inside of her apartment.

The two of them sat down on the couch next to each other.

"I remember that you told me you had sex with him the other night. You don't have to tell me again, if that's what this is about," Michaela told her.

"It's more than that," she bit her lip.

"You're scaring me, Laurel..." Michaela blinked a few times. "What did you do? Kill the guy?"

"No, but..." she shook her head. "So, I slept with him again."

"And?" Michaela raised her eyebrows. "Look, I know you said you hated his ass and all, but you two boning again isn't that surprising. I don't know the details of what went down between the two of you, but if you still have feelings for him, then no one's going to stop you. Except maybe Annalise."

Laurel was glad to hear that kind of support, and maybe it would have been helpful when her big problem with Frank was still having feelings for him. But now, it was beyond that.

"That's not it," Laurel continued. "He came to see me earlier today... to ask me if there's a chance that the baby is his."

Michaela's eyes went wide. She stayed silent for a moment, trying to process it.

" _What_? No—but. You said the baby's Wes's over and over again. Is he crazy? You were dating Wes right before you found out that you're pregnant, so... Why the hell would he think he's the father?" Michaela tried to figure things out for herself, sorting events in her head, wondering how it could even be a possibility. "How is that even possible, unless— _No_." 

"I'm further along than I've been telling everybody."

Michaela's eyes were still wide. 

"Laurel, what is going on?"

**MEXICO CITY, JUNE**

_"Te amo, mamá. I promise I'll come visit you again soon, okay?"_

_"You better. I know that lawyer lady you work for likes to keep you busy, but I need to see my baby every now and then. You're always welcome here, mija."_

_Laurel pulled her mother in for a hug, clinging on to the material of her shirt tightly. Once she pulled back, she smiled weakly as she backed out the door, leaving the tearful woman alone. She pulled her rolling suitcase outside, dragging it along the street._

_She called a cab when she saw it driving by, motioning for it with her hands. The cab pulled over, and she got inside the back after shoving her suitcase inside._

_"¿Habla inglés?" she asked as soon as she got inside._

_The driver nodded his head._

_"Good. Airport, please," she told him._

_The airport was a little while's drive away from her mother's house, but it would give her a chance to stare out the window and take a look at the streets of Mexico. Because even if she had some bad memories here, she was still fond of her home and her culture._

_The driver started driving towards the airport. She stared out the window like she intended to, smiling as she looked at some of the bustling streets of the town once they got away from the pristine neighborhood. As she stared, she became nostalgic and far more sad about leaving the country. Honestly, she was dreading going back to Middleton and Annalise and all the drama from the chaotic last year of her life._

_The cab came to quite a long stop, jammed in the mid-day traffic. Laurel didn't mind, though. She liked having more time to analyze every one of Mexico's distinct features. She turned her head to a particular street vendor selling some fruits. A man wearing all black was handing the worker some money. Once the man had his fruits in a bag, he turned around._

_Thick beard, brooding face._

_Laurel recognized him almost instantly, even with his hair much messier than she remembered it being. She had seen him with messy hair only in the mornings when she had stayed over at his place, and it was always before he had gotten ready for work._

_"I'm sorry. I need to get down right now," she told the cab driver._

_"What?" he was surprised. "Now? You said airport."_

_"I changed my mind. There's something I need to do. Here," she handed him a bill with more pesos than what was necessary for such a short drive, but she didn't want to disappoint him or cause a fuss._

_"Um..."_

_She opened the door in the middle of the traffic jam, tugging her suitcase out. She walked through the traffic, knowing it was stupid. But he was walking away from the fruit stand and she couldn't let that happen._

_Once she made it on to the street, she rushed ahead of him, then darted so that she was right in his path. He couldn't ignore her._

_His head darted up. His eyes bugged._

_"Laurel."_

_"Why are you here, Frank?"_

_He swallowed hard. She was honestly scared he was going to run away from her._

_But he didn't._

_"Living in isolation," he shrugged his shoulders. "I can't be in Philly. I've been goin' all over the place."_

_"Did you know I was here?" she asked._

_"I knew you were planning on visiting your mom, but..." he bit his lip. "I wasn't sure you'd be here, and honestly, I didn't think you'd come to this part of town."_

_"I was on my way to the airport," she told him._

_"Leaving already?" he asked._

_"I was."_

_"You gonna miss your flight?"_

_"Depends."_

_She didn't know if she wanted to hug him or hit him. She hadn't seen him since he took off in May. It felt like it had been forever since she had seen his face. She had gone to his apartment and saw that all his things were gone._

_"Where are you staying, Frank?"_

_"Right now? Some janky motel not far from here. I walked."_

_"To buy fruits?"_

_"Gotta eat something, right? Plus, you told me I should lay off the sugar, didn't ya? I was trying to be... healthier."_

_Her heart ached looking at him. Her heart ached when he brought up something that she had said to him a while back... back when they were in a relationship._

_"How would you like to stay somewhere nicer than that 'janky old place?'" she offered, knowing it was tempting._

_He pressed his lips together, staring at her face. He had been trying to forget how beautiful she was. And seeing her again made him remember how much he missed her, not that he had forgotten much. He had thought about her a lot once he left._

_"You don't gotta do that. Not for me. I'm fine."_

_"Well, I'd rather talk somewhere nice."_

_"Talk?"_

_She nodded her head. She was trying to stay calm right now, but she had so many things to ask him. She was going to grill him once she got him alone. Because as much of a calm front as she was putting up right now, she was breaking inside. She didn't know how to feel about seeing him again._

"Laurel," Michaela said cautiously, "I don't like where this is going. You met up with Frank in Mexico?"

" _Shh_ ," Laurel practically hissed. "Keep it down or Asher'll here you."

Michaela sighed, pressing her lips together. She didn't want to be  _in_ on another secret. Of course, she wanted to be there for Laurel. That was what she had been trying to do constantly ever since they all found out about Wes's death and she saw how broken Laurel was at the hospital. This secret about Laurel's dad was important, but Michaela was already reluctant about helping with that. She agreed because she knew it was right, but she hated keeping a secret from Asher. 

They were supposed to be in a healthy place. But Laurel was giving her another major secret to keep, and Michaela didn't know what she would do if Asher really started to get suspicious. What if he became insistent that Michaela tell him what all the secrets were about? 

But she kept listening. She wanted to know the truth, anyway. 

_"Wow," Frank commented, making a slow 180-degree turn to analyze the room he was standing in. "This is a damn nice place, ya know. I can't remember staying anywhere even half as nice as this since I left."_

_Laurel was done with the "nice" thing. Now, she wanted the truth._

_"Maybe that wouldn't be the case if you didn't leave in the first place," she hissed._

_He blinked a few times._

_"I deserve that."  
_

_"You do," she nodded her head. "And you honestly deserve every bad thing that comes your way. You abandoned everyone. I went to your apartment and everything was just... gone. You had me worried sick, you know that? I—God. God, I didn't know what could have happened to you. I was scared that I was gonna walk into a room at your place and find you dead."_

_He chuckled bitterly._

_"Wouldn't I deserve that?"_

_"What are you doing? Running away?"_

_"Isn't that obvious? Annalise wants me dead, Laurel. She hates my ass. And honestly, I would've thought you wanted me dead, too."_

_"I've been worried sick about you ever since you left, Frank!"_

_He looked up at her with sad eyes. Her face softened, feeling bad for him more than anything. He didn't look like he meant to hurt her in the process. He didn't look like the bad guy she had made him out to be—he looked vulnerable and like he just wanted somebody to care about him. And his eyes were lighting up with a small glimmer of hope—hope because he felt like Laurel actually gave a damn about him._

_"You told me you were done with me," he swallowed hard, trying to see if she would run away once she remembered the bad guy he was. "You know what I did. You know I'm not good."_

_"I know, and... I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't care about you," she told him. His facial expression dropped; the hope he had that she cared about him was fading. "But I do."_

_He looked back up at her, surprised._

_"What?"_

_She laughed bitterly, shaking her head._

_"You know, I've been thinking about this moment for a long time," she told him. He raised his eyebrows, intrigued. She continued, "I've been thinking about the moment I see you again. Thinking about what I'd say to you. How I'd yell at your ass. How I'd make sure you got what you deserved. How angry I'd be when I saw your face again."_

_He stayed silent, reading her face to try to understand what she was getting at._

_"But it was different when I actually saw you. When I saw you there today, I was... relieved," she admitted. "I was just relieved that you're alive and not rotting dead somewhere. And I want so badly to tell you that I hate you and wish you were dead but I don't."_

_"Why?" he chuckled sadly. "You should want me dead."_

_"Yeah, maybe I should. But I guess the heart really does work in mysterious ways, huh?"_

_He took a step toward her, but not too close._

_"I missed you, Laurel."_

_She shook her head._

_"Don't say you missed me."_

_"But I did," he told her. And he actually looked sincere. She didn't know if she was supposed to buy it because she knew how good of a liar he was. She had no idea how many lies he had told her since the day their relationship started—since they first met. "There wasn't a day that I didn't think about you and wish I could fix us."_

_"Oh God, don't say that," she shook her head, staring at the floor. "Don't say that."_

_"I have to say it 'cause it's true," he insisted. "I knew it was a long shot, but a part of me thought that maybe—just maybe—I'd run into ya here 'cause I remembered you said you were gonna visit your mom in Mexico over the summer. But I didn't count on it. This place is damn big and I didn't think you'd just happen to drive by."_

_"God, Frank," she breathed. "God, you shouldn't have said that."_

_"Why not?" he asked, raising his eyebrows._

_"Because I'm gonna hate myself for it, but now I'm gonna do this."_

_She quickly walked forward, closing the distance between them, pressing her lips to his. It was a desperate and hungry kiss and she could barely remember the way his lips tasted from the last time she had kissed him. She clung to his shirt tightly, yanking him in closer and deepening the kiss, wanting to be near him so badly even though she was aware that this was crazy and Annalise would kill her if she ever found out about it._

_He held on to her waist, kissing her back with an equal amount of hunger. She ran her tongue across his bottom lip, sliding it into his mouth. It felt so good to kiss him even if it was so wrong._

"So, you guys kissed?" Michaela asked. "I know it's not gonna be true, but please tell me that's where this ends."

Laurel bit her lip. That clearly wasn't the case.

"As you probably already guessed and knew, I didn't go home yet. I stayed in Mexico, but not with my mom," she told her.

"Oh no..." Michaela's eyes widened. "You really did that."

"I really did."

_Laurel's legs were wrapped around his naked hips, allowing him the perfect amount of access to push in and out of her. He was on top of her, wearing absolutely nothing (just like Laurel). He was kissing down her neck, further exciting her body. Laurel's hands ran down Frank's back, her nails digging into his skin as she climaxed while he was inside of her._

_He came undone soon after, falling right beside her on the bed. Both of them were panting heavily._

_He turned to look at her, smiling contently._

_They had been doing this on repeat for a while now. Honestly, they had both lost track of time. It became an endless cycle. It was unhealthy, yet neither one of them wanted to leave each other._

_They fucked constantly._

_They'd made themselves comfortable inside of Laurel's place. Perks of being born into wealth. They'd spend every day together. They were always in each other's company._

_And to both of their surprises, they didn't talk about the past that much. They didn't talk about all the bad things that Frank had done. They didn't talk about why they broke up._

_They just talked about life, as if they were normal people. And even though they were running away from their real lives and all their problems, they felt like they were normal people._

_It was like they had everything they needed right there. They had a nice place to stay and they had each other's company. Neither one of them was really longing for much more._

_Sometimes Laurel thought about how wrong this was that she was on some secret escapade with Frank, especially after she tried hard to hate him and pretend she didn't love him back after finding out that he was responsible for Lila's murder. It had been easier to run away from her feelings than to admit that she felt something so deep and profound for someone so conventionally bad._

_"I'm back from the store," Laurel announced, entering the building with two bags of groceries in hand. She carried them into the kitchen, where Frank was cooking. "Hey, I told you that I was going to cook this time!"_

_Frank chuckled, shaking his head. He turned around, stepping toward her._

_"Let me help you with the bags," he said, picking them up for her._

_"I didn't need help," she jabbed playfully._

_He rolled his eyes, "You're getting mad at me for making you do less work?"_

_After setting the bags on the table, Frank returned to the stove, where he was cooking. Laurel came up behind him, tugging at his shirt._

_"Seriously: I told you that I was going to cook today, Frank."_

_He chuckled, turning around so that he was facing her. He put his hands on her waist, pulling her in closer to him. She reached upwards, throwing her arms around his neck, smiling like a bigger fool than she intended to be._

_"What can I say? I like cooking for you," he grinned. "I like to see your face when you try it and you know it's good."_

_"I like the part where we have sex afterwards," she smirked._

_"Trust me: I like that part, too," he grinned harder before leaning in and kissing her gently._

_But they kept kissing. Slow, long kisses. Frank's tongue found its way into her mouth. His hands moved around, gripping her ass instead of her waist, squeezing it. He didn't want to get worked up right now, but he couldn't help it when it came to her. She always made him want her._

_He finally pulled back, letting her go, leaving her wanting more. She seemed disappointed when he ended things, furrowing her eyebrows at him._

_"As much as I want this, the food's gonna burn if we keep this up."_

_"Let it burn this whole place down."_

_"Don't tempt me."_

_"Whatever. Just hurry the hell up, would you? I'll be waiting."_

_"I'm gonna go even slower just because you said that."_

_"Well, the slower you go, the longer it's gonna take before we can... you know."_

_She winked at him before walking off. He chuckled, shaking his head, then turning around to attend to the food again. And both of their hearts were left fluttering._

She tried to spare Michaela the details, skimming through and just telling her that they had "reconnected" in Mexico. She figured that Michaela would be able to put the pieces together and figure out exactly what that meant. 

"Were you guys, like... back together?" Michaela asked curiously.

"More or less," Laurel shrugged her shoulders. "It was never officially decided or anything, but..."

"I think I know where this is going, Laurel."

"I think you do, too."

_She kissed his lips one last time before rolling off him, laying down next to him. She sighed, her eyes flickering over to him, a small smile forming on her face. She turned her body and got on her side so that she was facing him. She scooted closer, pressing her body against his, throwing her arm over him, pressing her head to his buff chest._

_He placed his hand on her back, wanting her even closer to him. He was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling while absentmindedly tracing circles on her back with his fingers. Oddly enough, he felt peaceful inside._

_"I don't ever wanna go back," she suddenly said._

_That made him turn his head. He looked at her, slightly started._

_"Hmm?"_

_"To Middleton. To Annalise. To anyone there," she clarified. "I don't want to go back to my life there. I just want to stay here with you forever."_

_For whatever reason, his heart broke when she said that. They didn't talk about feelings a lot, so it was odd to hear her like this._

_"But you should," he encouraged. "You gotta life over there. You're smart as hell; I know that. You're supposed to finish law school and be a bad ass lawyer."_

_She scoffed, "How does anyone know what anyone's 'supposed' to do?"_

_He pressed his lips together for a moment, pondering the question._

_"Well, you're damn good at what you do. It'd be a shame if you gave that all up for... what? To waste your time here with me?" he raised his eyebrows._

_"It isn't wasting my time. I want to be here," she told him._

_He sighed, "I'm no good, Laurel. I'm really not, and maybe you're forgetting that." He looked straight into her blue eyes before telling her, "I may be no good, but you are. You're good. And you're smart. And you're capable of so many great things in life. You're not me. You gotta chance to make something out of yourself instead of ending up like me."_

_"I used to think that way," she admitted bitterly. "Back when I first started at Middleton, I thought like that. Thought I was going to change the world and become a fantastic-ass lawyer. I thought working for Annalise Keating was going to open up so many doors for me. But I know better now."_

_"Laurel," he shook his head. "You can still do everything you wanted to do before. Nothing's changed."_

_"Everything's changed and you know it."_

_"It'll change if you stay here and waste your potential. But you can still accomplish all that if you go back," he told her._

_"Frank, I'm not going back," she said sternly. "I don't ever want to go back to that place."_

_He was at a loss for words now, feeling guilty. He felt like he was responsible for this. He was obviously the bad influence that convinced her to stay in Mexico ever when her trip to visit her mother was over. She would have gone back to Middleton and continued studying. He knew that she would be giving up so much if she stayed here._

_He knew what he had to do._

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

"Laurel—"

"Shh, just wait," she told Michaela. "This is the worst part."

_Laurel had went out that morning again to buy groceries. She was going to ask Frank if he wanted to come, but he was still sleeping, so she didn't want to wake him. She returned with a bag full of groceries that she intended to cook for him with. There was no way that she was going to let him steal the opportunity again and do all the cooking._

_"Frank, I'm back!" she announced as she walked inside with a grin on her face. She set the groceries down on the floor. "I'm cooking today, so don't you dare try to get ahead of me."_

_She was expecting some smug response from him, but got nothing. Just her voice echoing followed by silence._

_"Frank?" she called his name again, furrowing her eyebrows. "Are you seriously still sleeping? It's practically the afternoon now! Frank!"_

_Ready to tell him off and force him to wake up, she marched into the bedroom they shared. He normally wasn't one to sleep in too late, but she had trouble waking up that morning, too. She had to force herself to get up early to pick up groceries. The previous night, she and Frank had been up late talking about all that stuff and, of course, boning. She didn't blame him for sleeping in, but she sure was ready to bother him about it just for fun._

_"Wake up!" she exclaimed when she got there._

_But he wasn't in bed. The bed was already made, so he had clearly gotten up, but he wasn't there. He didn't seem to be in the bedroom. She rushed into the bathroom—maybe he was changing or something. She didn't hear the water running, so showering was out. He wasn't in there, either._

_She tried to figure it out. He didn't leave, did he? He wouldn't. They were getting along so well and things were so good between them lately. Why the hell would he leave in the middle of that? Without telling her that he was going to leave? Without as little as a goodbye?_

_No, he wouldn't. Maybe he had gone out, too. Maybe he was racing her to get groceries and cook first, right? He didn't leave. He wouldn't._

_She left the bathroom, back into their bedroom. She needed to know that he didn't leave her all alone. She pushed the closet open, hoping to see all his shirts hanging there. She saw nothing but her clothes. All his stuff was gone. He had taken everything of his and left, and now she knew the truth._

_She blamed herself for being so stupid. She fell for him again. She trusted him again._

_For some reason, she thought that all was well and they could work out, despite everything that happened. She had given him a second chance (third, considering the first time they broke up over his long-distance girlfriend Sasha). He betrayed her again. She felt stupid for even being surprised that he betrayed her. This was the real type of person he was, wasn't it? Abandoning her. She had started to feel that he was good inside again, even after everything he did._

_He didn't leave her a note, either. He didn't even have the fucking decency to do that. She had no idea where he was going or how to find him. He didn't want her to find him, clearly._

_He abandoned her when she needed him. And him leaving made her realize how fucking much she loved him, because it hurt so badly._

_She knew everyone back home would hate her for it, but she loved him. And she cried because she loved him and he left her._

"I'm so sorry," Michaela said sympathetically. She reached over, cautiously touching a distraught Laurel's shoulder, trying to comfort her without being too much. "So, is that why you were so mad at him?"

"Among other things: yes," she nodded her. "I came home soon after. Annalise asked me if I had seen him because he went MIA, and I told her I hadn't. She even suspected I saw him in Mexico, but I shot her down."

Michaela stared at her for a longer moment than she meant to, her mouth seeming like it was itching to say something, but was worried to say whatever it was. 

Laurel tilted her head to the side, "What?"

She let out a tiny sigh before asking, "Is he the... um—is he the father?"

Laurel was startled, pressing her lips together. She was expecting Michaela to put the pieces together on her own. And it seemed that Michaela  _had_ figured it out, but Laurel wasn't expecting her to  _ask_. She thought it would be something Michaela just figured was the truth and accepted it without asking questions. But she asked—explicitly. 

"He is," she admitted shamefully, staring at the floor. It was the first time she was saying this out loud. 

"Oh my God," Michaela's eyes widened. "Why... why did you tell everyone that it's Wes's?" 

Laurel cocked her head, looking at her like it were obvious.

"Really?" she scoffed. "Why do you  _think_ I told everyone that it's Wes's? Nobody would look at me the same if they knew the truth."

"That's not true!" Michaela shook her head. "Okay, maybe Annalise would be mad, but she's not even in our lives anymore. And besides, we all knew you were screwing him before. You and Frank aren't exactly a surprise or a secret."

Despite what she was saying, Laurel could see the judgment in her eyes. It wasn't because she was sleeping with Frank, though. As hard as Michaela was trying, she was judging Laurel for lying and pretending that the baby was Wes's when she knew damn well that it was Frank's all along. Laurel was worried that she thought of her as a sick person, carrying on such a large lie for such a long time.

"How long have you known?" Michaela asked, some of the judgment she had been trying to hide seeping out unintentionally.

"Um... I don't know," she shrugged her shoulders. "Sometime at the beginning of the school year. I kept telling myself I missed my period because of stress, but..."

"Did you find out before you started dating Wes or after?"

Laurel was starting to understand  _this_ —this line of questioning. Michaela was trying to decide whether or not Laurel was a terrible bitch, wasn't she? 

"Before," she admitted, fearfully looking up. Michaela swallowed hard, nodding her head, the judgment so crystal clear in her eyes. Laurel thought that getting all these secrets off of her chest would make her feel better, but it was only making her feel worse. 

Michaela scoffed, "What? Were you planning on tricking Wes into believing that the baby's his?"

When Laurel didn't respond, Michaela got her answer. Her eyes went wide. She was half-joking when she asked the question. She didn't think it would actually be true—she  _wanted_ to believe that there was some other possible explanation.

"God, Laurel. What the hell?" 

" _Tricking_ isn't the right word—"

"Then what is? Lying to him? Telling him it is? It doesn't matter what word I use! It's deceptive as hell!"

"I know I screwed up—"

"Yes, you  _screwed_ _up_ ," she rolled her eyes. "I've been feeling so sorry for you because you lost a guy you  _claimed_ to love and whose baby you were  _claiming_ to be having. I thought I was being a good person by helping you find out who did that to him, but... you were just feeling guilty, weren't you?"

"Stop, please," Laurel begged, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. "This isn't what this is, okay? I cared about Wes. So much. He was a great friend. I know what I did was bad, but I still need to prove my dad did this. We're both doing this because he was our friend."

"It's too late to back out now and honestly, I want the truth, too," Michaela nodded. "But you lied to me—to  _everyone_ —repeatedly."

"I was  _scared_. Don't you understand?" Laurel asked desperately. "Frank disappeared from my life and everybody hated him. I didn't want anyone to know... And Wes was there for me, okay? What I felt for him wasn't fake."

"I'm having a hard time believing that when you were about to try to pass off another man's baby as his," Michaela hissed. "If you  _loved_ him, you wouldn't have done that."

Laurel couldn't think of anything valid to respond with. She was terrible—she knew that. And she couldn't believe that she had become this person. She had prided herself when she first started law school because she was planning on becoming someone much better than her father; she was planning on becoming a good-hearted lawyer who fought for people who needed it most. Maybe it was way too idealistic, but she genuinely wanted to help people. She found out the sad reality about the justice system by working for Annalise, helping her even when she was defending guilty clients.

It was rewarding sometimes, though, when she actually helped innocent people who needed someone to save them. But even more than the corrupt justice system, she went from an idealistic law student to someone with morals as poor as her father's. She felt responsible for hurting Wes—a good guy. The baby thing was bad already, but even worse than that: she had the guilt of her father being responsible for Wes's death. In a way, that was her fault.

"I'm sorry," was all she could say.

"Whatever," Michaela said bitterly, trying to brush her bitterness off because she, as angry as she was with Laurel for lying, still wanted to help her. And she still felt bad for her in some ways. "Um, I'll call you tomorrow if Oliver says anything to me, okay? I should get inside. Asher's probably wondering why I left him waiting for so long."

"Right," Laurel nodded her head, wiping the tears from her eyes. She stood up from where she was sitting, walking out of Michaela's apartment.

Michaela swallowed hard before walking inside of her bedroom. She sighed of relief when she saw that Asher was jamming out to loud music with his headphones on. The music was so loud that he didn't even notice her walking inside.

"Hey, dummy: I'm back!" she yelled loudly, whacking the side of his face.

Startled, he fumbled around, quickly yanking the headphones out of his ears.

"H-hey!" he exclaimed. "What's up?"

 She rolled her eyes, pushing herself on to their bed, moving closer to him. She threw her arms around his neck, leaning in to peck his lips quickly.

"Are we gonna do this or what?"

Asher swallowed hard. He nodded his head—there was no way that he was going to turn down sex with her. Nonetheless, he was still concerned. 

"Yeah, of course," he said. "But, um... what's going on with you and Laurel?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, trying to play dumb, although she was aware of the fact that Asher wasn't  _that_ oblivious.

"Well, for starters: the secret meeting you just had that I wasn't allowed to be in," he raised his eyebrows. "And you're always whispering whenever you're together. I'm just wondering what's going on."

Truthfully, he was worrying about what Frank had said to him the other day about Michaela possibly cheating on him with somebody at work. And it wasn't so much that he thought she was cheating, but more that he realized how secretive she was acting. She was always coming home extremely late from work and she and Laurel seemed to be in their own bubble all the time. Asher just wanted to know about whatever was going on. And of course, part of him  _was_ worrying that Michaela was screwing some hot guy from Caplan & Gold, but that was just the super jealous side of him freaking out, as usual.

"It's nothing," Michaela shook her head. "She needs someone to be there for her right now."

"I get that, but... why does that have to be a secret?" he asked. "She knows I can be there for her, too, right? We all can. Oliver, you, me—maybe even Connor."

Michaela sighed, "Asher, it's not that big of a deal. It's just boy drama."

"Boy drama?" he grinned. "I'm  _here_ for some boy drama. Who's the boy, anyway? I didn't know she was even interested in everyone. I thought she'd be so focused on the pregnancy that she wouldn't be looking for anything right now."

"That's what hormones do to you," she chuckled. 

"Come on, tell me who the guy is!  _Please_ ," he begged, giving her puppy-dog lips.

"I don't think she'd want me—" she started.

"Is it Frank?" he guessed.

"What? How did y—"

"When I was helping Frank study for the LSAT, he was  _clearly_ getting a text from a girl. I asked him if he got a sext and he started blushing like crazy," Asher laughed. "Wait, so... does that mean it's Frank?"

"Don't tell anyone," she warned.

"I won't!" he assured her. "Come on, Michaela. Who would I even tell? Don't you trust me?"

" _Of course_ I trust you," she bit her lip. "It's just... she didn't want me to talk about this in the first place. And you tend to slip up and reveal things a lot, so... I don't want you running into Annalise one day and blurting out that Laurel's screwing Frank again."

Asher nodded his head. He grinned, feeling happy that Frank was with Laurel again—he really liked Frank a lot. But he kept staring at Michaela, reading her eyes, and feeling like she wasn't telling him the whole truth. He believed her about Frank and Laurel (it made perfect sense), but he couldn't help but feel like there was more to everything. He didn't buy that they were being extra secretive because of Laurel's boy drama, that was for sure.

"So, is that everything that's going on?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "Like,  _everything_ everything?"

She furrowed her eyebrows, fearing that he knew more than he was letting on. But, she wasn't going to risk it and ask if he knew anything. She just wanted to drop this conversation so she didn't have to keep lying to him, because she really did hate lying to him. She just didn't want to involve him in this.

" _Yes_ ," she cupped his cheeks. "Now, are we going to sit here and keep talking about Laurel, or are you going to make me feel good?"

He forced a smile before leaning in to kiss her lips. He was letting it go for now, but he certainly wasn't giving up. He was planning on figuring out the truth.

* * *

" _Even from the copy, most of the files are password-protected. I could probably hack the password quickly, but it wouldn't be of much help, because Tegan and probably the people at Antares would be notified as soon as someone accesses one of the files, even from my computer._ "

"Damn it, Oliver," Laurel sighed. "What can you get into that isn't password-protected?"

" _Nothing useful. They've got general things that they're not trying to hide, like mission statements and website layouts. Everything else is protected, and damn... the IT guys at Antares must be really, really good."_

"So, what now? What can we do?" she asked.

" _I'm not sure," Oliver admitted._

"Well, that doesn't sound very good," she groaned in frustration. She ran a hand through her hair, unsure of what to do next. There seemed to be no way in, but she just couldn't accept that her father was getting away with all of this. 

Before she could think too long and hard about it, there was a knock at the apartment door. 

"Um, I gotta go, Oliver. Call me if you figure anything out," she said before hanging up the phone.

She sighed, getting up from the bed and walking to the door. She pulled it open, her mouth pressing shut as soon as she saw Frank standing there.

"I know you don't wanna talk about the baby, but I can't just... not," he immediately said. "And before you yell at me, just hear me out, okay?"

It wasn't like she  _could_ respond, anyway. She couldn't find any words right now; she was just staring at him, unable to speak.

"I  _know_ I have what it takes to be an amazing dad, Laurel," he told her. "I'm studying hard for the LSAT, and I'm gonna do everything in my power to take care of you and the baby. Whether or not the kid's mine, I'm gonna love the hell out of him because I love the hell out of you."

Laurel's eyes widened. 

"You don't have to talk about it right now. You don't have to say anything at all, actually. Just... just let that sink in: that there's a guy who loves you and will wait for you—until you're ready," he told her. "I'll wait for as long as it takes for you to be ready, and I'll be there for you every step of the way with this baby, 'cause I can do it. I  _want_ to do it."

"Frank, I lied to everyone," she confessed fearfully.

He took a moment to process it, but remained as calm as he could. He was freaking out inside, though—he kind of just found out that he really was the father of Laurel's child. And he had been hoping that he was the father all along, although he was ready to commit to her and the baby even if that kid had ended up being Wes's biologically.

"Screw everyone," he chuckled. 

"Seriously..."

"Nah,  _I'm_ serious," he told her. "If they don't understand why you did it, that's not your problem. I get why you lied, Laurel. I screwed up badly—I left you when you needed me most, and there's no excuse for that. I thought I was doing what was best for you because I didn't want you to give up your potential all 'cause of me."

She gazed into his sparkling eyes, feeling her heart racing—fearing that it was racing so loud that he could hear it. But he  _understood_ her. For some odd reason, they both understood each other so well. 

And he was the only person that wasn't going to be judging her for this. She saw the look in Michaela's eyes when she told her the story; there was judgment, even if she was trying her hardest not to be judgmental. She could only imagine how much worse it would get if everyone else found out. 

But he still loved her and was looking at her with so much love, even when she was feeling like she was starting to become more and more like her father. He had never stopped looking at her like that. He never judged her at all, probably because he was the only person who was just as fucked up as her and understood what it was like to be so fucked up.

"Laurel," he said her name, breaking the silence. "I'll leave now, but... just know that I'm here for you, okay? If you just give me a chance, I know I can be the best dad ever and take care of you and the baby—whatever you need."

She nodded her head, just staring at him. He smiled weakly before turning around and walking away. Truthfully, he had wanted to kiss her, but he didn't want to rush her into anything. He told her that he was going to wait until she was ready, and he was going to do just that. He was trying to be the guy he needed to be for Laurel. He wanted to have something honest with her and start a family, always protecting her and the baby.

When he shut the door behind him, he stopped for a moment, a smile forming on his previously serious face. He couldn't help it—he was gonna be a dad. 

He knew she was still hesitant about everything, and he didn't blame her. He was aware that he made a whole ton of mistakes that were hard to forgive, but he had said what he needed to say, and he meant every word of it. And judging by the look in her eyes when he said it all, he believed that she would come around. She just needed time to process everything.

"Hello?" he heard Laurel say from inside the room.

He furrowed his eyebrows curiously, turning back around. He hadn't been intending to eavesdrop, but he  _was_ wondering who she was talking to, and _what_ she was talking about. It wasn't his fault that the wall between the hallway and Wes's old apartment was so thin.

"Slow down, Oliver. Are you serious? That's amazing, but that doesn't mean you're going to be able to get into Tegan's files. They're still password-protected, even if you're on the inside." She sighed, continuing, "You're right, it's still a big thing... Anything that brings us closer to proving what my dad did to Wes is a good thing. All right. Let me know what happens tomorrow at work. Bye."

He pressed his lips together. Laurel's dad was involved in what happened to Wes? And she was plotting with Oliver to prove that her dad was involved? He was startled, yet not  _that_ surprised. Laurel had always been driven to find answers and get to the bottom of things. He also figured that she was plotting with Michaela, too. Asher had been repeatedly complaining to him about how Laurel and Michaela were being "shady" all the time. 

And Frank wanted to help her. He really did. She wanted answers, and he wanted her to see that he would do absolutely  _anything_ for her. 

His solution?

Help her get her answers.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

" _I'm sorry to call you out of the blue like this..."_

"Don't even worry about it. What's up?"

_"Michaela dropped me at work today and she was supposed to drop me home after work, too, but she just told me that her boss is making her work late tonight, so... I kind of need a ride home."_

"That's it?"

" _Yeah. I know it's last minute and I understand if you're busy, but I was just wondering._ "

"Nah, I'll be there. Give me like ten, all right?"

" _Really?_ "

"Yeah, of course. I meant it when I said that I'm gonna be here for you—whatever you need, Laurel."

He could hear her quiet breathing during the short moment of silence. She was thinking—processing everything. Frank just hoped that he was convincing her to give him a chance to be the father that he knew he could be. He really wanted to be a part of Laurel's life and the baby's life.

" _Thank you._ "

"Any time."

* * *

Frank parked outside of the building, quickly sending Laurel a text to tell her that he was waiting for her outside. He stared at the evening sky, eagerly waiting for her to come. He was also slightly nervous—he wanted to ask her about her Wes investigation. He was just hoping that she didn't get mad at him for it.

He unlocked his car door when he saw her emerging from the building. He couldn't help but smile even harder when he took a good look at her baby bump. That was  _his_ kid in there. He had spent so much time hoping that the baby was his, but he hadn't realized how it would feel if it were actually true. And it  _was_ true.

"Hey," he greeted as she got inside of the car.

"Hey," she breathed back. "Thanks again for picking me up. I wish Michaela had told me sooner that she wasn't gonna be able to drive me home."

"Of course," he smiled, starting up the car. "How was work today?"

She let out a bitter laugh, "Boring, as usual. Filing a ton of papers while watching Denver run around making other people make his campaign look better when he doesn't deserve it."

Frank furrowed his eyebrows.

"Why do you say that?"

Laurel bit her lip. She may have overshared a bit.

"Nothing, he's just... you know. He was on all of our tails after Wes's death and not going about it very ethically."

"Right," Frank nodded his head.

She grew nervous, feeling like he knew more than he was letting on. 

"Frank," she said as he tried to focus his eyes on the road.

"Yeah?"

"What is it?"

"You tell me."

"Seriously, what is it? You've got this look on your face that I can't explain... like you know something that I don't."

He chuckled, "I really know nothin'. But I think  _you_ know a lot more than  _you're_ letting on."

"What?"

He sighed, "Look, I wanna do things right this time around, so I'm just gonna be honest with you. When I was leaving your place last night, I overheard you talking to Oliver about your dad and... Wes."

She sighed back, "Oh, God... I didn't want to rope you into this."

He nodded his head, "I'm fine with being roped into this, okay? If you need my help with something, I'm on it. You can tell me whatever's going on, but I get it if you don't want to tell me, too. You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to."

 "I want to tell you," she sighed as he continued driving. "It's just—you can't tell anyone."

"Annalise wants nothing to do with me," he reminded her.

"It's not just Annalise," Laurel shook her head. "She can't know, but the others can't know, either. And I know you still talk to Asher, but you can't tell him. And you can't tell Bonnie, either."

" _Laurel_ , I'm not tellin' anyone. Just tell me what it is. I can handle it."

She stared out the window, running a hand through her hair. Frank tried to keep his eyes fixed on the road, but they darted toward her. Finally, she turned to look at him. She was going to tell him everything.

"We know who killed Wes."

Frank pressed his lips together. He kind of figured that one out from the conversation. He was just unsure of what the connection between Laurel's dad and Wes was. 

"Your dad?" he guessed.

Laurel nodded her head, "I know he did it, and I need to make him pay for it. I need him to go down for what he did to Wes."

Frank blinked a few times.

"You sure that's a good idea?" he asked.

She raised her eyebrows, "It's not about being a 'good idea' or a 'bad idea,' it's about doing what's right. And what my dad did to him wasn't right, Frank. It wasn't, and he's probably gotten away with much more than this, so I need him to go down for everything."

Frank sincerely wanted to help her because he could tell that this meant a lot to her, but he didn't believe it was a good idea. They all had done so many things that "weren't right" and could easily land them in jail if the cops ever found out. Frank knew the type of dangerous man that Laurel's father was, so he knew it wouldn't be easy to take him down. It would be complicated and dangerous—borderline impossible, even.

"Why'd he do it, anyway?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out."

Frank sighed, "But you're sure he did it?"

"One-hundred percent."

Frank parked the car nearby the apartment complex. He turned to look at Laurel, sighing again.

"This is a dangerous thing you're doin', you know," he told her. 

"I  _know_ , but it's worth it," she assured him.

"You  _sure_ it's worth it?" he raised his eyebrows. "'Cause I don't think you see the implications of this, Laurel. It's crazy. Wes went down for everything—Sam, Rebecca... The cops think he committed suicide because of his guilt over everything, and the tale makes sense. Maybe it ain't right, but you'd all be opening up the wounds again if you prove that it was murder, not suicide." 

"That's not a good enough reason to not do this," she shook her head. "I don't care about any of that."

"Who's helping you? Oliver? Michaela?" he asked. "Don't they realize that the people they love'd be in danger? I mean, what if your dad hurts somebody else because of this? Or what if Connor or Asher goes down after it's over?"

"They agreed to help, and that's exactly why my dad needs to be stopped. He needs to go to jail for everything he's done because what he does is not fine," she told him. 

"Laurel, you're not thinkin' straight."

"I'm thinking  _right_ ," she said confidently. "If you don't want to help, that's fine. That is not the issue. Just don't tell anyone or mess this up for me, because I need to do this. I need to get justice for him because I feel... responsible, in some way."

"This is  _not_ your fault," he shook his head. "Your dad did this. Not you."

"Maybe Wes would've been alive if it weren't for me, though," Laurel felt tears building up in her eyes. "I don't expect you to help me, but I need you to let me do this."

Frank pressed his lips together. He stared at her, feeling his heart ache to see her crying like that. He could see the guilt in her eyes—the guilt over what her dad did to Wes. Maybe even the guilt of not loving him like she wanted to. 

"I'll go now," she announced, unbuckling her seatbelt, opening the door, and getting out of the car. She walked inside of the apartment building, leaving Frank alone in the car.

He sighed, leaning back against the car's seat. He was having a bit of a moral dilemma. He wanted to help Laurel and prove to her that he would do anything for her, but he knew it was going to be so dangerous to go after a man with as much power as Jorge Castillo. He knew the best move for Laurel would be to stop this plan to take him down immediately, but knowing Laurel, that was never going to happen. She was determined to do this, and there was no stopping her now.

Frank didn't want her or anyone else to get hurt when this all went down. And he was scared that if he didn't do something about it, somebody would get hurt—especially Laurel. 

He decided to help her, not because he thought this was a smart idea, but because he wanted to protect Laurel. And it was better to get involved and make sure everything went correctly than to let her risk everything on her own. He couldn't lose her or the baby.

* * *

"I told Frank... about everything."

" _What? Why the hell would you do that, Laurel? What if he tells Annalise? Or Bonnie? Or even Asher?_ "

"He won't, Michaela."

" _You don't know that_."

"I do, though. He wouldn't do that to me."

" _And why not?_ " she scoffed. " _Are you back together and have him so whipped that he would do anything for you?_ "

Laurel rolled her eyes (but kind of knew it was true).

"I just know him, okay? You have to trust me. He asked me what was going on because he overheard me on the phone with Oliver. He doesn't like the idea, but I know he won't tell anyone. He doesn't want to help, though."

" _Then we just gained nothing out of this_."

"Whatever. We're still going to prove my dad did this, with or without Frank's help."

 

* * *

 

Frank furrowed his eyebrows, zooming in on a picture of a file on his computer. He had two pictures of files side-by-side on the screen. He was pretty sure that he was on to something.

"Shouldn't you be studying for your LSAT?"

Startled, he looked up and saw Bonnie standing in the doorway with a towel in her hand. She ran the towel through her hair, drying it. She had just showered, but was already dressed for work. Quickly, he shut his laptop.

"Y-yeah, I know... I just—" he blinked a few times, trying to come up with an excuse. "I got distracted. I'll get some food and then take a practice test."

"Right," she nodded her head. "I should go to work now."

He nodded his head back. She stared at him even after she said that she had to leave, which worried him. He feared that she was suspicious. He knew that she was a suspicious person in general, but the last thing he needed was for her to start investigating him when he had made a promise to Laurel to not tell anybody about the thing with her father.

Bonnie finally left, heading downstairs. Once he heard the door shut—meaning she had officially left—he opened his computer again. He knew that she was right about the LSAT. He really needed to work hard and study because he wasn't doing so hot on the practice tests he had been taking. He had been scoring in the 140 range, sometimes 150 if he was lucky, but his scores generally hadn't been the best. More than anything, he wanted to become someone who was capable of taking care of Laurel and their baby.

Maybe it was overly-idealistic, but he wanted to become a lawyer and have a steady job. He wanted to make good money and be able to be a good father and a good partner to Laurel. It all sounded so crazy and he knew he was stupid for thinking he could ever have a good, normal life, but he couldn't help it—he wanted it so badly. When it came to Laurel, he actually wanted something real and good.

He didn't know how he could study for his LSAT  _and_ help Laurel with this. He also wanted to prove to her that he would do anything to help her and show her that he cared about this (even though he really did think it was a crazy and dangerous plan). He just needed to figure  _something_ out to show her that he was there for her. Then, he could finally get back to studying for his rapidly-approaching LSAT that basically determined whether or not he had a good future ahead of him.

He stared at the screen again, hoping to find some connection, hoping that this wasn't just a dead end with no relation. 

All he needed was a link between Antares and Wes.

He opened another folder that was sent to him. It was a long document with several pages worth of information. It was a transcript of an Antares meeting. Frank intended to read every word of that document.

* * *

_FRANK, 6:45 PM: Come over soon. Emergency._

Laurel blinked a few times, staring at the message on her phone. She gulped, looking at the stack of files on her desk. Bonnie had ordered her to sort through all the papers by date and have it back to her by the end of the night, but Laurel really wanted to know what Frank had to say. She looked over at Bonnie, who was in the middle of a conversation with Nate. 

She got up from her desk, walking over to the two of them.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I... I actually have to go to a doctor's appointment right now," she lied.

Bonnie furrowed her eyebrows, clearly skeptical. Nate just stood back.

"At this hour?" Bonnie questioned. "Really, Laurel?"

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I know it's inconvenient, and I totally forgot I had scheduled it."

Bonnie sighed, shaking her head.

"Well, I can't say no to your doctor's appointment, can I?" Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Please tell me you've at least gotten all your work done and filed through the papers I asked you to this afternoon."

Laurel bit her lip, "I've done a lot of it already, but I've still got some left—"

"Fine, go," Bonnie glared. "But you need to have all that done by the end of work tomorrow. Honestly, you should have it done even sooner. And maybe next time, don't get so distracted during work and keep checking your phone every five seconds. Maybe you could...  _do_ your work?"

"Right, sorry. Won't happen again, I promise," she said before rushing out of the building from a clearly frustrated Bonnie.

She drove over to Frank's—or, Bonnie's, that was. She knocked on the door.

"Hey," he greeted when he opened it.

"Um, hey," she raised her eyebrows. "What is it? I left before I finished all my work, and Bonnie was really chewing my ass off, so this better actually be important." 

"It is," he declared, opening the door wider and stepping aside so that she had room to enter.

He shut the door once she was inside, then led her to the living room area. They sat down on the couch. Frank opened his laptop, pulling up the files that he had been analyzing in the morning (instead of studying for his LSAT).

"What is this?" she asked.

"A transcript from an Antares meeting," he told her. 

Laurel's eyes widened.

"You're  _helping_? And... how the hell did you get this?"

"I got a buddy over in Florida. Had him steal an IT guy's key card and bug the meeting. He wrote up a transcript of everything he recorded."

"He didn't ask why?"

Frank scoffed, "My buddies are ride-or-dies. They don't ask questions. They just...  _do_."

"And you've read it?" she asked. "The file?"

He nodded his head, "It was a meeting about going public. Antares is going public soon, and they've had plans to do so for a long time now."

"And Wes?"

"We know he was gonna talk," Frank reminded. "Detectives were trying to get him to rat out Annalise and the rest of you. He walked before he said anything, but your dad couldn't be sure about that. He wasn't going to take any chances. He wasn't going to wait around to see if the puppy talked or not."

In Laurel's brain, it finally clicked.

"My dad couldn't let him implicate me," she concluded. "He killed Wes because he thought Wes was going to tell the cops everything about all the murders and... Antares was about to go public, so his daughter being involved in crimes came out right before the company went public..."

"He'd lose everything. Money is a powerful thing."

She hated her dad even more now. His greed for money and power made him take away the life of an innocent guy. She turned to look at Frank, surprised that he had joined in on this and figured this whole thing out so quickly.

Without overthinking, she leaned in and pressed her lips against Frank's, kissing him. She placed her hands on his cheeks, cupping them. Although startled, he kissed her back.

When they finally pulled back, he asked, "What was that for?"

Her hands were still cupping his cheeks.

"When you told me you love me the other day, I wasn't sure if you meant it—" she started.

"Of course I meant it."

"I know that now. You didn't have to do this for me, but you did."

"I couldn't just stand back and let you dive into something crazy. I wanna be here to protect you no matter what, Laurel."

She smiled, "Don't you have the LSAT soon?"

"Yeah, but..." he bit his lip.

"But nothing," she said, resting her hand on his shoulder. "You should take a practice test. Maybe you need a tutor. Like someone who's already taken the LSAT."

He chuckled, "Don't worry. I got the best of the best—Doucheface has been tutoring me."

"Well, Asher's great, but... I think you'd have more of an incentive to study... with me," she said in a low voice, leaning closer to his face, brushing her lips against his. He swallowed hard, tempted to pull her in and kiss her hard. 

"Maybe," he agreed. "But... maybe we could start the tutoring tomorrow?"

"And what would we do now, then?"

He rolled his eyes, not fighting it anymore, and closing the distance between their mouths. He opened his mouth into it, reaching his hands for her lower back, pulling her on to his lap.  


	5. Chapter 5

"How was it?"

Laurel quickly flicked her head up from the paper she was staring at.

"Huh?"

"Your doctor's appointment," Bonnie clarified, tilting her head to the side. She was clearly still skeptical by the look on her face.

"Oh, right. It was good," Laurel swallowed hard. "The baby's healthy."

"Glad to hear," Bonnie nodded her head. "And how is that filing coming along?"

"Working on it."

"Right."

Laurel bit her lip as she watched Bonnie walk out and get back to attend to her own work. She sighed, pulling the next file out, continuing to organize the stack. She really needed to get this done. She was already on the edge by leaving work early so often. Today, she was planning on staying the  _entire_ time. She kept sorting through the files, trying to keep her focus on what she needed to do, but as soon as she heard her phone ring, her attention went elsewhere. She was beginning to regret begging Frank to tell Bonnie to get her this job. She knew it was good for her and her future, but her mind sure wasn't committed to the job.

It was a call. From Frank.

Her better judgment was telling her to not answer and let it go to voicemail, but the stupid, distracted side of her was telling her to answer it anyway. And she did answer it. She grabbed her phone and pressed the 'accept' button. After all, it could be an important call, right? Maybe he found out something that was important related to her dad.

"Why are you calling? You know I'm at work, right?"

" _I know, but I wanted to call anyway_."

Laurel rolled her eyes, chuckling quietly. She probably should have been annoyed that he was calling her for no reason while she was at work, but she wasn't even mad about it. In fact, she was  _happy_ to have him calling her. It made her breathe for a second and just... relax.

"Bonnie would kill me if she knew I'm taking personal phone calls at work. She probably already wants to kill me for skipping work so many times. I was supposed to have all these files organized yesterday."

" _She won't kill you. I won't let her_."

"Shut up," she rolled her eyes playfully to herself. "Seriously, why are you even calling?"

" _What? I can't call you just for fun?"_

"No, you can't. Not while I'm at work. Besides, aren't you supposed to be studying for your LSAT? You shouldn't be distracted right now."

" _Trust me, you've had me distracted for a while now_."

"Wow, thanks. I can't wait to be held accountable for you failing your LSAT."

" _Who says I'm gonna fail? Way to believe in me, huh?"_

"I'd say you've got a good chance of passing with a decent score, considering you have an amazingly talented and brilliant tutor."

" _That's true, but she's also kinda hot, so it's distracting."_

"Only 'kinda' hot? I think she's really, really hot."

_"I agree. If only she had any idea what I wanna do to her right now..."_

"I think she has a pretty good idea."

" _Would I be bad if I wanted you to leave work and come over right now?"_

"Yes, yes it would. And I can't, I told you. I've already been missing a lot of work, so I'm not about to leave again for...  _this_."

_"Well, personally, I think 'this' is really good."_

"Come on, can't you keep your pants on for a couple of hours and study for your LSAT? I've got work and you've got to study."

_"Will you come over after?"_

"Only if Bonnie's working late again."

_"She is, so you better come over. She's been staying at work with Nate a lot. You think they're screwin'?"_

Laurel looked up and saw Bonnie and Nate closely conversing in the corner of the office. She raised her eyebrows. Would they really be screwing? The only thing they had in common was how much they both loved Annalise, and Laurel didn't exactly think that would work in a relationship. But if it was just sex, that was a different story. She shook her head, rolling her eyes, wondering why she even cared. They were all adults; they could do whatever the hell they wanted. And to Laurel, that included her seeing Frank even when he was exiled from the Annalise Club. They were all exiled now, anyway, so there was nothing stopping this. 

"Beats me. I wouldn't be surprised. They could both fantasize about the other being Annalise."

_"Why the hell would you say that? You kinda just killed my sex drive."_

"Good. That wasn't my intention, but that's good. Now, study. This phone call has gone on much longer than it should have, and I need to get back to work."

_"Fine, bye. See you after work, right?"_

"Right. Bye."

She smiled to herself as she hung up the phone, setting it back down on the table. She would never admit it to him, but she sure was happy that he called her. And maybe she pretended to be totally against him calling her while she was at work while they were on the line, but she liked it. And she was glad to know that Bonnie was working late again, because that meant she could come over, which meant very good sex, which was very good for her sex drive that had been furiously heightened by her pregnancy.

It was tempting to not take him up on his offer and just ditch work right then and there to bone. But that was  _really_ against her better judgment—this time, so far against it that she couldn't betray it like she did when she answered his phone call.

 

* * *

 

Frank had his LSAT practice book and a bunch of bubble sheets sprawled all over the table. He had been trying his hardest to study all day, but his mind slipped to thinking about Laurel and the baby far too often. He felt like he was screwed when it came to passing the LSAT with a good enough score to get into a decent law school, and that certainly wasn't good because he desperately wanted to make something of himself so that he had what it took to take care of Laurel and their baby. 

And he couldn't help but think about her over and over again throughout the day. It was stupid and whipped and against everything he wished, but he couldn't help it when it came to her. She was on his mind constantly. They were finally in a good place, which he thought they would never be in again after he left her in Mexico, and certainly after she found out he killed Lila, but there they were. Somehow, he got a second (or third, or fourth?) chance with her, and he was damn happy about it.

He really couldn't wait for her to come over. He wanted to see her so badly. He was actually  _happy_ or beginning to feel happy. Maybe things would fall into place for him. All he knew was that he was happier with her than he had been in a long, long time,  _if_ he had ever been this happy before. He hated to be the sappy guy, but he really did love her. 

He was all too quick to turn his attention to the door when he heard a knock. He set his pencil down and rushed to the door to answer it, pulling it open. He smiled like an idiot when he saw Laurel standing there.

"Hey," he greeted warmly. "I was hoping you didn't bail on me."

"Why would I?" she smiled. She glanced over at his studying materials on the table. "Wow, you actually studied? I'm proud of you."

He smiled back, leaning down to peck her lips. 

"What do I get for being good and following all your instructions?" he smirked.

" _My_ instructions were for  _your_ benefit," she tilted her head to the side. "You get a better LSAT score now."

"I still did what you said, didn't I?"

"Fine, I guess you did," she gave in. "What do you even want?"

He rolled his eyes.

"What do you  _think_ I want?"

She rolled her eyes back.

"You didn't even have to ask, you know."

"I did, though," he told her. "You're carryin' our kid. You might be tired—I don't know what you're up for."

 _Our kid, our kid, our kid_. The phrase kept running through Laurel's mind; she could barely believe it when he said it aloud. Maybe it was because she had been in constant denial that the baby was Frank's, although it was clear as day that it was his since the beginning. But to hear it aloud was a different story, and she felt  _okay_ with it. She felt  _good_ about it. And maybe that would all change if everyone else found out and started judging her—maybe other people's opinions would cloud her judgment later, but for now, she liked the way it sounded. It was their baby.

She—of course—would never make a big deal about it, even though she was mentally freaking out... just a bit. She was good at staying calm and collected even when she was freaked out, so she did just that: stayed calm and collected. She played it off like it was nothing—just another casual comment in their conversation.

"I might be pregnant, but I've got a lot of endurance," she assured him, placing her hand on the middle of his chest.

With her foot, she kicked the door shut behind her, bringing her body closer to his. Mutually, they leaned down, their lips meeting. She tugged on his shirt to bring him closer, pulling his face as close as possible, their lips moving in sync. He rested his hand on the small of her back. She jumped up, allowing him to easily pick her up. Her legs were straddling his hips and his hand was firmly holding her up. Their lips kept moving together as he carried her up the stairs, into the bedroom. Once they were inside, he set her down on the bed, finally parting their lips. She pulled herself backwards while he climbed on to the bed, moving closer to her. 

He pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it on to the floor. Laurel was laying back on the bed, her head resting on a pillow. He brought his head down, close to hers, but didn't kiss her just yet. He gazed into her eyes for a moment, smiling sincerely, taking it all in that he was here with her and nobody else. He placed his hand on her cheek, caressing briefly before pushing a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. She kept her lips pressed together, swallowing hard. She was slightly uncomfortable with how intense it felt to look into his eyes, but it wasn't the bad kind of uncomfortable. It was the  _"crap, I'm in too deep"_ type of uncomfortable. She couldn't even deny all the feelings she was having; she just wished he'd never ask her, because she was having so many of them. 

Finally, he closed the distance between their mouths, kissing her. He found her hands, lacing their fingers together. He brought her hands up so that they were pinned above her head, and kept kissing her mouth. He moved his lips down, trailing kisses along her jawline and neck. Finally, he let go of her hands and brought them down to her top, helping her take it off. He allowed it to join his shirt on the floor.

"Hey," she stopped him before he could kiss her again. "I told you that I'm up for this."

He raised his eyebrows.

"I told you I've got a lot of endurance. I plan on living up to what I said," she smirked. 

He didn't fight her at all when she flipped them over so that she was on top of him instead of the other way around. He didn't care that he wasn't in control of this. Frankly, it was kind of hot when she took control like that. She started unbuckling his belt, biting her lip as she did so. His eyes were fixed on her, still in disbelief that he was still with her.

* * *

_"You need to let Annalise go and move on with your life."_

_"No, that's you, Nate. You're the one who's obsessed with her. You're the one who's defending her."_

_"I'm not... defending her. I'm stopping you from messing with her for no reason."_

Bonnie rolled her eyes when she thought about the argument with Nate. They had the same conversation over and over again—both of them clearly still cared deeply for Annalise, although they'd never admit it. They pretended they were angry with her and wanted nothing to do with her, when in reality, they wanted everything to do with her. Bonnie felt stupid, but she was messing with Annalise's class action lawsuit. She didn't know why she felt the need to do so; she just had this rage over the fact that Annalise abandoned her. Bonnie understood that she had to let the other kids go, but why her? Why did Annalise need to fire  _her_ , too? She thought they would always be a team until the end, but she wanted to end their team, and it hurt like hell. She wanted to get back at Annalise, she really did, and that was where Nate was drawing the line.

Nate was also upset over everything that had happened between him and Annalise, but his feelings for her were undeniable. Frankly, he had never quite gotten over her, and he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to. But he tried his hardest to keep his distance from her. Despite that, he saw no need for Bonnie to meddle with Annalise's case. It had nothing to do with whether or not he had feelings for her; it was just about the case.

Needless to say, Bonnie was in a low position in her life. She missed Annalise, as much as she hated to say it. She missed the way things used to be. She felt lonely and worthless a lot of the time. She was relieved to finally go home and just lay down. She needed to lay down. The stress was all becoming too much for her.

Sighing, she opened the door to her house, walking outside. She glanced over at the table, where Frank's study materials for his LSAT were. She rolled her eyes, annoyed that he wasn't cleaning up after himself—just another thing to deal with. But she figured she'd yell at him about it later. For now, she really just wanted to get some sleep. 

She walked up the stairs, slowly trudging toward her bedroom. On the way there, she heard  _noises_ coming from Frank's room—noises that were easily recognizable. She heard him grunting. She rolled her eyes. Was he really having sex with somebody in  _her_ house?

She didn't mean to be nosy (or maybe she did), but she opened Frank's door just a crack so that it didn't make a sound, but so that she could look inside. She saw the backside of a brunette girl—clearly topless. The girl was riding him, teasingly slowly just to make him groan harder. She bent down, still riding him, pressing her lips against his. 

"Fuck, Laurel," he groaned.

Bonnie's eyes went wide. She had a feeling it was Laurel when she saw the girl's backside, but she hated knowing it. Frank was fucking Laurel...  _again_?

She heard a quiet laugh come out of Laurel's mouth. Laurel was clearly enjoying this, and it was infuriating to Bonnie for some reason. All those times she had been shadily sneaking around, she was probably banging Frank at  _Bonnie's_ house. Quickly, Bonnie left the room, not wanting to see anymore of this disturbing sight. 

And Bonnie wasn't an oblivious woman—she was quite smart, actually. She had always known that Frank had never quite gotten over Laurel, but Bonnie had been OK with that because she always thought that Laurel would never go back to him after finding out everything that he had done. But clearly, Laurel didn't seem to care, or she had gotten over it, because she was back to square one: banging him on the DL. Just like old times, right?

Bonnie trudged to her bedroom. She set her things down, collapsing on to the bed. Her day had just been so tiring. Her  _life_ had been so tiring lately. And to top it all off now, Frank and Laurel had a weird thing going on again. It bothered her, and she didn't want it to.

In fact, she hated that it bothered her. She didn't  _want_ to be bothered by the fact that Frank and Laurel were a thing—whatever they were. She didn't even know  _why_ it bothered her, actually. For some reason, it outraged her. They were sleeping together at  _her_ house.  _Her house_. Frank wasn't her boyfriend—Bonnie knew that—but it still hurt nonetheless. It hurt to see him with somebody else. Bonnie was beginning to admit to herself that maybe she was quite a bit jealous. And maybe she did have feelings for Frank... she didn't know. She was confused and felt alone, maybe that was what this was. All she knew was that this was bothering her for some reason. Her mind was a jumbled mess and she wished that she could fix it. But between Annalise abandoning her, all the chaos from the past year, and now  _this_ , she couldn't help but feel like a mess. And she was a mess. She had always been a mess. People with backgrounds like hers usually ended up becoming a damn mess.

 


	6. Chapter 6

"Mornin', Bon."

Bonnie just rolled her eyes, continuing to pour coffee into her mug. She didn't even bother to acknowledge him or turn to him. It was passive aggressive—she knew that—but she was pissed and she couldn't help it. Frank, who had just come downstairs, furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to why she wasn't saying anything to him at all. He walked further into the kitchen, nearing her.

"Bon?" 

"What is it, Frank?" she sighed, giving in. She turned around, holding her coffee mug in her hand, leaning against the kitchen counter. She tilted her head to the side, offering him nothing more than an unimpressed look. He shrunk inside a bit, clearly getting the message that she was unhappy with him for some reason. He knew he was walking on eggshells now, and was unsure of what to do with that or how to get out of this mess.

"Um... I just..." he blinked a few times. "You mad at me or something?"

"No," she lied. There was a long moment of silence before she randomly threw in, "You really need to clean up after yourself. I'm not about to be the maid for you and put away all your LSAT books and papers. You need to do that by yourself."

"Right, sorry," he bit his lip. "I promise I'll clean that up... and it'll never happen again, I swear." When her expression didn't change at all, he knew he was still doing something wrong. His lack of cleaning clearly wasn't the big issue here. "So, is that it? You're pissed at me because I didn't clean up? 'Cause I can fix that. Is that all it is, or is there something else you wanna get off of your chest?"

"I never said I'm pissed."

"But you are," he said confidently. "I know you, Bon. I know when you're pissed."

Her original plan was to keep her mouth shut. It was just to leave things the way they were, being passive aggressive whenever she got the chance. Bonnie had always been afraid of confronting her issues head-on. She was afraid that Frank would judge her if he knew the truth. Why wouldn't he? It all sounded so pathetic and embarrassing. It would make her sound vulnerable, something that she never wanted to feel again after how vulnerable she felt when those disgusting white men raped her repeatedly. She never wanted to go back to that dark place of vulnerability. Even if this wasn't remotely similar to that, she hated being vulnerable.

And it certainly would be embarrassing. What would she tell him? That she was fucking jealous for whatever reason that he was banging Laurel in  _her_ house? Bonnie figured it was crystal clear that Laurel was the one who Frank wanted all along. She was just some sloppy seconds that he turned to when he was alone, depressed, and had nobody else to turn to. Annalise hated his ass, Laurel (although she had previously confessed that she loved Frank to Bonnie) claimed she wanted nothing to do with him and was trying to move on with Wes, and he was pretty much exiled from the group  _because_ Annalise hated him for what he did. 

Bonnie was stupid enough to be there for him through it all, to comfort him because she cared about him and thought he cared about her, too. She thought that sleeping together meant something to him, but no, it clearly didn't. He only did it because he was desperate for somebody to care about him and be there for him. Bonnie was readily available to him, supporting him even after everything he had done. She let him take advantage of her. He was probably wishing it was Laurel who he was fucking the entire time.

Thinking about everything he had said and done, Bonnie just burst. She exploded right there. 

"If you're gonna keep  _screwing_ her, then go live with her instead," she snapped.

Frank pressed his lips together. Bonnie knew, somehow.

"This is not a place where you can enjoy yourself and bring girls over. I gave you a place to stay because I was trying to be there for you and thought you had nowhere else to go. But since you're clearly banging Laurel again, you can go live with your girlfriend. You don't need to be here anymore."

"Bonnie, I—"

"No, don't try to justify it. It's your life, so you can bang whoever you want, but this isn't a hotel. It's not going to be at my place," she told him.

"Who told you?" he asked.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Nobody had to tell me. I saw it myself. You two aren't exactly very discreet about whatever this is. And if you really didn't want me to find out, why the hell would you bang at my house?" 

Bonnie  _saw_? Frank tried to keep his cool, but his face was turning read. God, she really saw him having sex with Laurel. He felt like an ass for it. He wasn't exactly oblivious—he kind of had a feeling that Bonnie was jealous, or that she had  _some_ feelings for him. He didn't expect that she loved him or that he was extremely important to her, but her certainly knew that she felt  _something_ for him. 

"I thought you were workin' late..."

She rolled her eyes again.

"And that makes it OK?"

"No... I know it's weird, but... I didn't know you weren't OK with it."

"You really thought I'd be OK with it? If she's so important to you, then you should be living with her instead. Not me. I'm not providing you with a hotel. I only let you stay here because I thought you had nowhere else to go, but you clearly do. You can't just use me for a place to stay."

"That's not what this is at all!"

"I want you gone," she angrily told him. 

"You don't mean that."

"But I do," she said. "You don't know what the hell I'm thinking or what the hell I mean. I do want you gone."

"Bon, I'm not using you. You  _know_ I care about you, too," he sighed.

Bonnie pressed her lips together. She was tempted to believe him, tempted to let another man walk all over her, but no: she wasn't going to let that happen again. She was standing up for herself and what was best for her. And what was best for her right now was to have him leave her house. 

"I have to go to work. Pack your things," she told him. "I want you gone before I come home."

"I've got nowhere else to go, please," he begged her. "I really don't."

"Move in with her, Frank!" she snapped. "If you two are going to do this again, the least she can do is offer you a place to stay when you don't have one, because you don't anymore."

"She lives in a one-bedroom apartment now. There's no way I could stay there even if she wanted me to."

"That's not my problem. You can deal with yourself and your own issues. I'm done taking care of you and helping you," she said. "Remember: you need to be out of here before I get back from work."

He sighed. Bonnie took a huge sip of her coffee. Frank stood there awkwardly for a few moments, watching her finish her remaining coffee. Once she was finished, avoiding eye contact with him, Bonnie rushed toward the door and out of her house. Frustrated, Frank sighed. He hated how good he was at fucking things up with people. He fucked things up with Annalise long ago. He certainly fucked things up with Laurel (a few times now), although she was somehow still in his life. And he fucked things up with Bonnie, too. Bonnie was supposed to be the one person who was always by his side. They had been through hell and back together and he  _thought_ they considered each other "ride or dies," but clearly that wasn't the case. He had a feeling he fucked things up with Bonnie the minute he ditched after they slept together. 

Truthfully, he was desperate and alone that night. He needed somebody to care for him, and Bonnie was there to care for him when nobody else was. He had always told himself that he would  _never_ cross that line with Bonnie, since she was like family to him. She was like his sister. But now, he was pretty sure that he had lost her. Everything got complicated when romantic feelings were thrown into the mix. He sincerely wished he hadn't crossed that line with her; he wouldn't have done it if he knew that it would end like this. He was never expecting her to  _actually_ have serious feelings for him at the beginning. He thought she would get over it quickly. Maybe she'd be pissed at him for ditching her, but she would get over it like she always did.

He figured he needed to stop expecting everyone to give him second chances. He had already had way too many "second chances."

* * *

Frank sighed, setting his suitcases down on the motel room's floor. He packed his things quickly and got out of there—he didn't want to piss Bonnie off anymore. She was mad at him and he didn't want to fight her on this more. Plus, he figured he had overstayed at her place, anyway. He wasn't sure what he was going to do later, but for just a little while, he was planning on staying at this motel. He knew he couldn't do it too long since he didn't exactly have a steady source of income at the moment (he was working on that with the LSAT and all, but getting a steady job was a long way's away). He didn't want to waste too much of the cash he had in the suitcase from  _that_ unspoken night. That was supposed to be his emergency money. 

He sat on the bed, relaxing his head back on the pillow, laying his body down on the mattress. He sighed again, staring up at the ceiling. This was one of those nights where he felt alone again. He had started feeling really lonely ever since Annalise cut ties with him. He had started to get back on track when he fixed things with Laurel and had Bonnie and Asher as friends, but now that Bonnie had cut him off, he was starting to get those lonely feelings again. 

He wanted to talk to Laurel and be with her right now, but he felt like crap. He didn't want to keep dragging her down, and he was starting to feel like all he could ever do was drag her down further and further. He loved her—he really did. And he had all these motivations about becoming a lawyer and taking care of their kid, but how realistic was that? 

First of all, he felt so stupid, so how could he ever become a good lawyer? And even before that: how could he even pass his LSAT? 

He knew he had potential to be a good dad, but he didn't know if he could pull through. He was a mess himself, so how the hell was he supposed to take care of his baby? How the hell was he supposed to take care of  _Laurel_? He wasn't good enough for her or their baby right now, and maybe he'd  _never_ be good enough for them.

He pressed his lips together, feeling frustrated with himself. Feeling like the white trash that everyone made him out to be. And maybe they were all right—maybe that was exactly what he was: nothing more than a piece of white trash.

Conveniently, his phone started ringing. He groaned before forcing himself to move from his relaxed position to grab his phone. He held the phone in front of his face.

Laurel was calling.

Truthfully, he didn't want to answer. He wasn't sure he could talk to her right now without giving off his whiny, depressed vibes. He didn't want to be a  _burden_ to her. He wanted to be the person who always helped her and took care of her—not the person who got in her way and created more problems for her, like he had done several times in the past. He had distracted her from her education with their drama numerous times: the sneaking out for sex, the pretending to be single when he had a long-distance girlfriend, the confessing to killing a pregnant sorority girl, and the sudden disappearance from where they were staying together in Mexico. 

And he didn't want to bring her down again now by whining about how sorry he felt for himself.

But he answered anyway.

_"Hey! I'm finishing up at work. Bonnie's, um... Bonnie's going out for drinks tonight with Nate, so... I thought I could maybe come over."_

Crap. He really didn't want to explain everything that had happened. He was kind of glad he picked up because she would have probably went over to Bonnie's house to see him without checking in at all if he didn't answer the phone.

"Um... maybe not tonight. I've got... stuff to do."

He heard her laughing quietly.

_"'Stuff to do?' What stuff do you have to do right now, Frank? It's late."_

"I'm trying to focus right now. I've really gotta study and do well on my LSAT. Maybe comin' over tonight isn't the best idea. I always get distracted when you do."

_"As you should. But, seriously? You choose tonight to study out of all nights!? She's going out tonight. I can come over without worrying that she's pissed at me for ditching work."_

"I know, and I'm sorry."

_"Frank."_

"What?"

_"You know, I can tell when there's something you're not telling me. I've always been good at that. And the first time around, I chose to ignore it because I was afraid of what you were hiding. But now, I know the worst that there is, so... I'm not afraid anymore. I thought we weren't doing the lying thing this time. So, what aren't you telling me?"_

He sighed quietly. Maybe he should have known better than to keep things from her. He had, after all, promised himself that he was going to do much better in this relationship with her. He thought he had learned from his mistakes.

"We don't gotta worry about Bon anymore."

_"Why not? Don't tell me you offed her."_

He rolled his eyes at her "joke." 

"Nah, it's 'cause she kicked me out of her place."

_"Seriously, Frank? What the hell did you do to her?"_

"Can I explain in person?"

_"Of course. I'm leaving work in like five minutes. And if you're not staying at her house anymore... where are you?"_

"A motel. I'll text you the address."

_"Okay, yeah. I'll be there soon."_

"Bye."

_"Bye."_

Frank kept himself busy by staring at the ceiling until he heard a knock on the motel room door—presumably Laurel. He hopped up from his bed, pulling the door open. She raised her eyebrows. She glanced over at his suitcases on the motel room's floor. 

"Oh God, you were really serious about this, weren't you?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"What happened?" she asked, stepping inside of the motel room, shutting the door behind her.

"Like I said: Bonnie kicked me out. Told me to pack my things and get out before she got home from work."

"Yeah, I know. But  _why_ , Frank?" 

He stared at Laurel. He wanted to tell her, but it was kind of weird to talk about this. He could leave the part out about sleeping with Bonnie, but then he would feel guilty about it.

"She came home last night while you were over," he confessed. "We didn't hear her come in, but she did. She pretended not to, but she knows about us. She didn't say anything last night, but she confronted me this morning."

Laurel's eyes widened.

"She  _what_?"

"Yeah..."

"She  _heard_ us? Or  _saw_ us? Or whatever?"

He nodded his head. Her eyes stayed wide. 

"Okay, okay... so she knows about us. Whatever, right?" she bit her lip. "Is she surprised or something? I mean... is she  _that_ mad that we were screwing? So mad that she kicked you out of her place?"

"Well, she said I can't use her place for... that," he said.

"Okay, well... that's a bit overdramatic," she commented. "Maybe she's just annoyed you didn't tell her. She'll probably get over it and let you stay at her place again soon. I mean... you can't stay here at a motel forever."

"She's not gonna let me stay at her place... not any time soon."

"And why not? Just talk to her, Frank! Tell her she's getting upset over nothing!"

He chewed his lip. He was going to tell her the rest of the story.

"Laurel," he said, staring right at her. "I think Bonnie's more mad 'cause... I think she's got feelings for me."

Laurel tilted her head to the side. 

"Oh?" she questioned. 

"We slept together... a while ago," he confessed. He saw Laurel's expression change. She seemed a little pissed, hopefully not jealous because, sincerely, it was nothing to be jealous of. "Not any time recently. Not since you and I..."

"But before that? You were... sleeping together?"

He tried to read her tone. He tried to analyze if it was jealous, but it was hard to read. She seemed... interrogative, at the least.

"Not, like... multiple times. Just once," he explained. "Once, back when I was on bad terms with everyone. I was alone and stupid, and Bonnie was there for me in Coalport."

"It was in Coalport?" she raised her eyebrows. She laughed bitterly. "Bonnie tried to convince me to stop worrying about you. She told me to let you go... to forget about you. Then, she insisted that she would find you and take care of you. She found you in Coalport... to what? Sleep with you? When she knew that I was worried sick about you?"

Frank pressed his lips together.

"Laurel, it was in the past. I promise. It didn't mean anything. Honestly, it was just because she was there for me when I thought I had nobody. I felt alone and I needed someone, and she was right there," he tried to explain. "I know it's not easy to understand, but it's the truth, I swear. I've loved  _you_ this whole time."

She nodded her head. To Frank's surprise, she stepped forward and reached over to take his hand. She squeezed it gently.

"I believe you," she told him. "I'm not worried about it. Like you said, it was in the past. We weren't together at the time."

He squeezed her hand, looking right into her eyes nervously.

"What about now?"

She tilted her head to the side. "Are you seriously asking me that?"

"Um... yes? Is that the wrong answer?"

"I kinda just assumed we were."

"Oh. Okay."

She smiled. "Okay."

Her smile faded. She continued by asking, "So, what now? What's your plan?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"I've gotta figure out a plan for now. But for the future? I was hoping I'd have an awesome job and enough money to stay at an awesome place with our awesome kid."

She rolled her eyes.

"Are you  just planning on staying at this motel? You could've stayed with me."

He chuckled, "Really, Laurel? I'm not sure I'd feel right sleeping in Wes's one-bedroom apartment."

Her face dulled when she thought about Wes. It reminded her of all the crap she was going to have to deal with soon, including her father. She had been so driven to take down her father that she had forgotten to take care of herself—forgotten to prepare for this baby that was on the way, both mentally and physically. And now that she had a good thing going on with Frank again, she was getting distracted from her plans, which she wasn't sure she was too upset about. She didn't mind this, even if she was planning on refocusing on those plans again later.

"Well, you can't stay here forever," she said.

"I know. I've gotta figure it out, but I'm not getting a paycheck from Annalise anymore, so I don't exactly have a steady income. I've got some cash, but it's cheaper to stay here than an apartment."

"Money's not a problem, you know that."

"Yeah, for you. My ass is still broke."

She smiled at him, "We're in this together, Frank. We're having a kid, and we're not doing it separately."

"I know, but... it doesn't feel right. My plan was to take care of  _you_ , not the other way around."

She rolled her eyes. "Would you drop that alpha-male act and just let me take care of you for once?"

"C'mon, Laurel. I'm not letting you pay for wherever I stay. That's not right."

"If it were the other way around, I know you'd do it for me. Fortunately, I come from money, so, I've got this," she insisted. "And it's not like I'd be paying  _for_ you..."

He raised his eyebrows.

She smiled, "I was thinking... if we're raising a kid together and I'm practically leaving work every night to see you, then... why not do this? It was getting stupid to sneak around behind Bonnie's back. It felt childish. When I saw Annalise, she gave me a wake-up call: I'm having a kid, so I need to stop acting like one. Let's be adults about this."

"You wanna move in together?" he asked, surprised. "Is that what you're saying?"

 She seemed more nervous now and he kind of liked it. It was cute, that was all. She usually put on this bold face and convincingly pretended to not have a fear in the world.

"Look, I've been thinking about moving out of Wes's apartment for a while now," she confessed. "I don't really know why I moved in to begin with. I guess... I guess I just thought I had to protect it. I didn't want some rando ruining it. It's always been...  _his_." He looked at her sympathetically. He could tell that she really did care for Wes, and maybe that was his fault for fucking everything up so badly that she had to turn to other people. She shook it off, continuing, "But... we all know that his place is not suitable for raising a baby. I was going to go see if my old apartment is still vacant soon."

He bit his lip.

"Your old apartment  _is_ a lot bigger..."

"Yeah," she nodded her head. "A lot bigger. And I'm not ready to buy a house or anything, but I think my old place is a lot better." 

He nodded his head back.

She sighed, "Okay, you know I don't like beating around the bush. Would you wanna or not?"

He tilted his head to the side, grinning.

"Of course," he said. "Staying with you or staying here alone? C'mon, it wasn't even a debate. And I promise, I'm gonna pay you back every cent for my half of the rent."

She shook her head, "Frank, don't worry about it."

"I  _will_ worry about it," he insisted. "I told you I wanna take care of you. And I know you don't need it 'cause you're fine on your own, but... I wanna take care of you anyway."

Laurel rolled her eyes, putting her hand on the back of his neck and pulling him in for a short kiss.

 

 


End file.
